OUR dog loves to run at the side of our fence barking obscenities at the dog on the other side of the fence. ‘I’m going to kill you if I get my paws on you’, ‘Yeah and I’m going to get you’. ‘Not if I get you first, loser’. It’s what a psychologist might call ‘willy-waving’. It’s his prime spot in the garden and our little gentle rescue dog isn’t allowed in it. She’s not the most assertive of dogs as the big one takes treats out of her mouth for his own consumption.
But this week there was a mighty commotion going on in the garden and we ran out to find little dog rabid, trying to bite a big dog, not giving up even when we stood between them to separate them. She was trying to circumvent us to bite and wouldn’t give up. Clearly there was some ownership battle about the territory by the fence that triggered her inner beast.
Which brings me to the point of this story – that I have had her for over a year and I would have thought I had a certain grip on her personality: a sweet-natured, non-aggressive little lady.
But we never really know dogs do we, we can’t judge them by human standards, because they aren’t human. And though it was an isolated incident, it still happened and it shocked me. A dog has primal instincts (so do we, but we have learned to control ours more). That is why I would never trust even the gentlest of dogs alone with a baby – or even a bigger child. That is why I would never let my dog walk off lead in public unless I could control him totally.
That is why I don’t have a dog that is too big and strong for me to handle. And because I don’t, the chances of me ending up in court because my dog has savaged another dog or person to death are virtually nil.
Shopping in town last week I made the schoolboy error of not checking my receipt when I was still in Boots because then I’d have discovered I’d been charged £9.99 twice for one lipstick. I heard my dad’s voice in my head telling me ‘always to check’ because he would have, no one got one over on him. He’s still there in my head, as is my mum. And by chance the day after I read a piece online about however old you get, when you realise you’re an ‘orphan’ it still packs a sucker punch.
Inside most of us resides a child who wants their parent’s approval, who misses the days when mum and dad were in charge, taking care of everything, embodying ‘home’. As always, it’s the little things that sneak through to set you off.
The big anniversaries I can cope with, but hearing that dear familiar voice in my head this week sighing, ‘Always. Check. Your. Receipts’ was both a comfort and a crucifier. When you’ve made a major fuss about Boris’s wallpaper bought from undeclared donations in a Commons speech, maybe taking freebies yourself as PM wasn’t the wisest action, especially if you’ve been selective yourself in what you’ve declared.
In that arena, does anyone really give gifts without wanting something in return: endorsement, favours, a knighthood? What if you love the clothes but aren’t so keen on the company ethics?
Do you bend your values to wear the threads? Hypocrisy and double-standards and an arrogance that no one will find you out. As ‘The Who’ sang: Meet the new boss, same as the old boss.
